


On The Run - Jelix/Septicpie RPF

by ouijafloof



Category: Holy Trinity (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Cool, Gay, Jelix - Freeform, M/M, Murder, OC, Septicpie, Wow, YouTube, felix - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, much - Freeform, pewdiepie - Freeform, thegays
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-09 02:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10401684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouijafloof/pseuds/ouijafloof
Summary: Felix snaps. There is a nationwide man-hunt for the shocking murder by the most famous youtuber on the planet. This is a story of crime, love, hate, murder, betrayal, trust, and angst.





	1. I'm not a slave to a world that doesn't give a shit

Sweat ran down his face, mixed with the murky, polluted rain trickling through his unkempt hair. He sat behind a pile of garbage in a dark alleyway in Brighton, untouched by light. The gasoline and mud enriched water puddling in the concrete soaked through his jeans. He shivered at the unfamiliar cold wetness. Clutching the gun he had been using just moments ago in his shaky hands, his adrenaline filled veins rushed with excitement. All of the police in the country were after him. He felt his heart beat out of his chest. Finally, he was free. He would never go back to his boring, stressful life with shackles and deadlines.

Smiling, he ripped his bag off his back and fumbled through it. It was a decent sized backpack, black and unassuming. He took off his hoodie and left it on the ground before putting on a new hoodie, this one oversized and grey. He changed his shoes too- from red sneakers to white ones. He put on a tuque, put his hood up, and left the gun on the wet pavement. The bottom of his bag was soaked through, wetting a wad of cash at the bottom. He had brought money with his to help himself start a new life, but now he was down to 1000. He had several other things in his bag as well: a flashlight, a box of matches, his vape, some batteries, a pocket knife, a water bottle, a copy of “The Catcher in the Rye,” and, of course, a picture of Marzia. 

He was going to miss her. He had been mentally preparing for this for weeks, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the crippling isolation he was feeling now. Just a few hours ago, he had the world in his hands. Now, he is alone. It didn’t take long for the excitement to wear off as he rode to London in a ride he thumbed. Now it turned into a sadness more immense than anything he had ever known. Now, he was no longer Felix Arvid Ulf Kjellberg. Now, he was Tobias Gudmund, a shy and distant homeless man.

The man who took him to London had him wedged tightly between four suitcases in the back seat, so it took him a while to shimmy his way out. He thanked the man and got set on his way, feeling the water spash him as the man drove off.  
“Great.” He mumbled grumpily.   
He remembers the warm showers, the soft seas of white blankets, the cocoa, warm in his hands with the frothy whipped cream and marshmallows. He remembers his home, Sweden, with the family Solstice dinners. The visits with friends. The vacations with Marzia. Edgar and Maya. But everything was lost now. He could never go back. He could taste his tears before he realized he was crying. There was no denying it now, this was a mistake. The lives he took were in vain. They died for nothing but his own impulsive greed.

He hurriedly scampered through the streets of London, trying to find somewhere to get some sleep and also hide from anyone passing by. He came across a sketchy store with the door unlocked, and decided to enter it for the night before he would surely be chased out the next morning.


	2. Chapter 2

He woke up early, still tired from the night before. The irritatingly loud clock on the wall told him it was around 6:45, and he would have to leave the comfort of the building soon. A few minutes later, the early morning bustle to work filled the streets of London. He checked his reflection in the mirror. If you didn’t look too hard, he was unrecognizable. He giggled sadly.   
“What have I done…” he muttered to himself. He looked to the sky, sitting on the cold, dewy sidewalk, tensing his muscles to keep the tears from spilling. He was afraid that if he began sobbing, he would never stop. So he sat there, thinking of nothing, emotionless in an ever-present state of shock. The grey clouds allowed for little view of the true sky above. Shivering, he felt his tired, quivering muscles. What the hell is he going to do now?

“Fuck you! You little son of a bitch!” Loud cries came from around the street corner Felix was napping on. A man came running into view, stopping suddenly when he saw Felix staring at him. Next to him was a thin alleyway where the man could hide. The man jumped quickly into the crevice, whispering  
“If they ask, tell them I ran that way.” He pointed down the street. Felix nodded. Who was he to judge what this guy might’ve done? He himself killed. The man retreated into the space between the two buildings when a gang of leather-clad men came running around the corner.  
“Where are you!?” A muscular man with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire yelled out. He stormed up to Felix, pointing his finger at the man’s head.   
“Hey you! Where’d that bastard go?” The brutish man yelled. Behind him his gang of 20 tattooed steroid-injectors gave him a menacing look. Felix pointed where the hiding man had pointed, and off the gang went without a thought, charging towards an unknown location.   
It had been a couple seconds, Felix still recovering from the unexpected event when he felt a tap on his shoulder.   
“Hey, buddy.” An American accent said to his right ear. “Thanks for doing that.”

Felix was finally able to get a decent look at him. He had short, dark hair, reddish brown eyes, and scars over his face. He looked like he was around 20, but Felix couldn’t be sure. He wore a black hoodie over a black tank top and cargo pants. He seemed tough.   
“I’m Edward. You can call me Eddy if you want.” The man introduced himself, offering his hand.  
“I’m F-Tobias.” Felix introduced himself as well, shaking Eddy’s hand.  
“So what’s a feller like you doing on the curb? Ya homeless?” Eddy asked. Felix nodded. “Listen, I owe you for what you just did there. That was really brave y’know.” The dark-haired man smiled, and Felix smiled back.   
“It’s no problem.” Felix tried his best British accent, which made Eddy burst into low laughter. “Got a shady past, huh? No problems here wit me. I do too. Had to flee my whole country.” Eddy gave an understanding look. “I can hook you up if you want, you being homeless and all. Just come with me.”   
Felix felt he couldn’t have been luckier.  
\-------------------------------------

Felix followed the man to an abandoned, dilapidated parking garage a few minutes away. The front door was boarded up as if it were a crime scene. Eddy let Felix to an entrance through the back. After they had climbed three floors up, Felix finally saw what Eddy meant.   
There were old mattresses and beds gathered in a circle. In the middle of it all was a fire in a bucket, cooking a can of soup. There had to be at least 30 people there, sitting around the fire, taking in it’s heat. They were all either chatting or reading until Felix and Eddy came in. They paused to look at the newcomer, and simultaneously welcomed him.

“This is Tobias. He saved me, so he’s going to be staying with us for a while. He’s like you guys, so don’t try to dig too much about his past.” Men and women of all ages all surrounded Felix, exchanging greetings and introductions. Felix learned from a girl named “Lolli” that Eddy was the one who saved them all by bringing them here. He gave them dignity and hope, she said.   
Tardy, the ‘residence coordinator’ assigned Felix to a specific resting place to call his own. “Residences” were made up of makeshift walls made out of old fences, cardboard and tarps, and consisted of a mattress or something of the sort, with a box for storage, a small table-like structure and a privacy curtain. Felix was surprised by how well put together everything was. They all must have worked hard on this communal project. He almost felt guilty taking advantage of this place. The concrete and pavement were surprisingly warm and comforting. Several boxes stacked sideways made for a great library, full of magazines, newspapers, and thrown-away novels. 

The best part of all of this was that everyone seemed happy. Sure they didn’t have much, but Felix got the feeling that they had riches in the relationships they had with each other, which is worth more than any amount of money can buy. He couldn’t wait to make friends, sing songs by the fire and play games with these new amazing people.


End file.
